


dissolved in hot desire

by winglessdrake



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Lactation, M/M, Rite of Passage, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winglessdrake/pseuds/winglessdrake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt on the Homestuck kinkmeme:</p><p><i>Lusus are tasked with rearing young trolls, yeah? But a lot of them can't actually communicate, so they have to... demonstrate, instead.</i></p><p><i>So it's expected that young trolls will have their birds-and-the-bees talk interactively. With their Lusus. Their Lusus fucking their brains out.</i></p><p>I deliver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dissolved in hot desire

He knew it was coming, of course. How could he not, when it seemed like his entire contact list would speak of nothing else, and Vriska's terrified screams had traumatized half the neighborhood before she finally realized what her lusus was doing, and her shrieks had melted into cries of pleasure? Nepeta had become very cross with him when he denied any desire to hear about her own encounter with Pounce – she had even called him a grouch, when he was nothing of the sort – and he'd been forced to resort to very harsh language indeed in order to stave off pity-filled communications from certain lowbloods who dared to think they understood his situation. Yet at the same time, neither did he want to be like Captor, who had stridently declared to anyone who would listen that he'd sooner eat mind honey that allow his lusus anywhere near him, and was perfectly content to learn everything he needed to know from the troll internet. The flagrant break with hallowed tradition set Equius' teeth on edge, and sent him all but scrambling for a towel.

And yet…Loathe as he was to admit it, Pyrope's gleeful accusations and Nitram's blatantly inappropriate attempts at condolences -- he might have claimed ignorance, but Equius was quite sure the brownblooded fool knew exactly how insulting he had been – were not entirely inaccurate. In fact, if launching a barb straight into his heart had been their intention, then – first prizes all around for a bullseye.

It wasn't as though he were unwilling. His body ached with needs he had deliberately kept himself ignorant of, as tradition required, and relief would have been a blessed balm, like a cold, foamy glass of milk after a lengthy cage match. Nor was he repulsed –indeed, had he not always admired Aurthour's visage? That thick, barrel-like chest, those smooth, muscular arms, that moustache he always took such special care to keep well-groomed…Truly, Equius' lusus was the very picture of dignified masculinity. How could he not be interested, even setting aside his curiosity concerning the basic facts of life? There had even been a time, not that long ago, when he had looked forward to this – but then his STRENGTH had begun to develop, and even the gentlest pats had begun to leave bruises on Aurthour's fair skin. How could Equius not be fearful, when it seemed he could not avoid hurting his lusus no matter what he did?  It was this fear that had driven him to pace restlessly from room to room of his hive, steadfastly avoiding Aurthour's company, and to lock himself in with his sparring 'bots for hours on end; but not even the joy of waging STRONG battle on his self-made foes could sate his inner frustration.

It was not until he was trolled by Gamzee, during a brief break in his self-imposed exile to the basement, that he realized how badly he may have misread the situation. The highblood's words were even more mangled than usual; several words were misspelled, and he appeared to be alternating caps at random. The reason why quickly became clear: it appeared Gamzee's lusus had not only put in a rare appearance in the waters close to his hive, but had in fact dragged itself all the way up the beach and nearly knocked down the front door in its effort to reach Gamzee. Gamzee had been quite firmly in the grip of a slime-induced stupor at the time, but snapped out of it – somewhat – at the realization that his hive was shaking. He'd quickly rushed outside, and then – well, what happened next was probably best left between the two of them. Just reading Gamzee's disjointed description had been enough to make Equius blush bright blue and completely soak two towels.

It was in that moment that he realized that, as important and life-changing as this rite of passage was to young trolls, it might just be of equal importance to the lusus naturae. If the need to be with his young charge had driven Gamzee's feckless and irresponsible lusus home at last, then how must sweet, dutiful Aurthour have felt, watching Equius steadfastly avoid his company day after day? It had never been Equius's intention to cause his lusus any pain – quite the opposite in fact – but as it happened Aurthour entered the room just then, and when Equius looked at him with his freshly-opened eyes, he could see the longing in Aurthour's gaze.

He was carrying a tray, upon which was perched a glass of milk – doubtlessly meant as a lure, to tempt Equius into remaining in Aurthour's presence. Over one noble arm was draped a thick towel; an exceptionally thoughtful gesture, as Equius had broke out in a sweat anew the instant he met his lusus's gaze. There was a quiet pause as lusus and troll stared each other down: Aurthour was the first to break the stalemate, his moustache twitching as the beginnings of a hopeful, pride-filled smile began to form behind it.

It might have been any of a thousand days that had come before as Aurthour crossed the room, slowly for the sake of the tray he still carried, were it not for the unfamiliar charged energy that seemed to have settled between them. Equius found himself watching Aurthour in a way he had never before; he had always admired his lusus's form, of course, but never with this strange sense of _purpose_. He found his gaze lingering on the plump, pale udder that ponderously hung just before the apex of Aurthour's hind legs, and blushed bright blue; Aurthour seemed similarly discombobulated as he handed Equius the glass, though his own blush seemed somewhat balanced by the pride that now filled his face. Rather than discretely leaving to fetch a mop as he usually did, he remained by Equius's side, and the scrutiny was so intense that Equius shattered the glass before it had even touched his lips, spilling milk all over his chin and chest.

He snarled, beyond embarrassed at his own clumsiness, especially at a time like this – but then Aurthour was calmly taking him by the arm, shocking Equius into stillness when he would otherwise have turned and stomped away. How many sweeps had it been since he'd last allowed Aurthour to touch him? And now Aurthour was setting the tray aside and holding up the towel he'd brought with him, gently wiping Equius's face and neck clean. He carefully removed Equius's glasses and set them aside as well, then calmly reached for the hem of his shirt, as though Equius were still so young that he required help dressing himself. But he'd never felt like this when he was younger. He was trembling as Aurthour wrapped his arms around him; a part of him still afraid, no, terrified of hurting his beloved lusus, especially now of all times, and in addition to that nervous about what was to come. Yet another part was shocked to realize, for the first time, that his chest had grown as broad as Aurthour's – and the rest was too stunned by the warmth that seemed to suffuse him as stiff bristles tickled his upper lip, and warm flesh caressed his lower, to consider anything else.

He was still too frightened to actually touch Aurthour – his arms hung limp at his sides, hands reflexively clutching at the empty air as he was kissed. But he couldn't seem to hold completely still; he was trembling as Aurthour tenderly stroked his back, fingertips digging into muscles that had been so tense for so long that the release of tension was almost painful. He groaned, knees buckling slightly, and might even have fallen if Aurthour hadn't caught him, cradling Equius against his chest. His skin was so warm and smooth, and Equius could feel the slow, steady drubbing of Aurthour's heart against his chest, gradually increasing in pace as his tongue tenderly slipped between Equius's parted lips. Equius's own heart was already pounding, as though at any moment it might burst out of his chest; but Aurthour understood what he needed, just as he always had, and ended the kiss, instead nuzzling Equius's cheek and continuing to stroke his back with long, calming sweeps of his hands.

When he slowly drew Equius down to the floor, lowering himself first to his knees, then lying on his side, Equius scarcely hesitated for a single second before kneeling beside him, heedless of Trollian's insistent chiming. Why would he want to speak with anyone, when words would have been nothing more than a barrier between himself and the being who currently occupied all his attention? Still, the ability to ask for some sort of explanation, and count on receiving one in turn, would not have been entirely unwelcome when Aurthour began to tenderly stroke Equius's face before cupping the back of his head and gently tugging him lower still. Equius blushed hot when he found himself face to, to teat with Aurthour's udder, the nearest protuberance still slightly damp and glistening. A rivulet of sweat ran down his face and fell to the floor; he might have balked then, might have tried to pull away despite the gentle hand still slowly carding its way through his hair, for certainly this was an impropriety in _any_ situation, even one such as this, and certainly not one he had allowed himself since he was very young, too young to have learned better. But Aurthour was already reaching down with his other hand, and taking hold of his own teat; Equius had no choice but to open his mouth, rather than see Aurthour spill himself onto the floor.

The warm milk spilled into his mouth, the taste familiar enough to be comforting, but the temperature just unusual enough to be exciting. Equius shuddered, opening his mouth as wide as possible so as not to miss a single drop. He found himself grateful that Aurthour had already removed his shirt; had he still been wearing it, it would surely have been stained and plastered to his back with sweat by now. As it was his stockings and shorts were growing uncomfortably damp – not to mention tight.

He whimpered when the steady flow of soothing yet titillating warmth slowed to a trickle, then finally ceased; with the utmost care he licked Aurthour's teat clean of the last few, lingering drops, then sighed happily, warm all the way through and satisfied in a way he hadn't experienced in sweeps. Yet his contentment was doomed to be short-lived; the aching need that had haunted him and all his contacts for the last perigee had only grown worse since Aurthour first laid hands on him, and was quick to remind him of its presence. He whimpered a second time, squirming in discomfort; his fingers digging small canals into the rockcrete floor. But once again, Aurthour proved to be his salvation; he reached back and, with nimble fingers, undid the zipper Equius dared not touch himself in his – oh dear – aroused state. Aurthour then pushed both shorts and zippers down to about mid-thigh; this time Equius's sigh of relief was, for the moment, without reservation or qualification. He couldn't even find it in himself to be embarrassed at being so exposed.

Aurthour stroked his thighs, both of them wider in circumference than the lusus's powerful arms, giving Equius a moment to grow used to his touch. Then his hands were slowing moving upward and inward, towards -- _oh_. Oh goodness, that felt…That felt _exquisite_. No one had ever touched him _there_ before, not even himself, though there had been times when he'd wanted to, oh, so much. But he'd waited, he'd saved himself for this moment, and oh god. It'd been worth the wait.

His first release came quickly. He had put this off too long, hungered for it too strongly, to hold off now. He cried out as all the tension left his body in a great gush of dark blue fluid, splattering the floor and Aurthour's white flank, and only barely retained enough presence of mind not to cling. He collapsed instead, into Aurthour's waiting arms, and found himself once more held close to that muscular chest, while tender hands stroked his face and hair.

But Equius was not yet sated. The tension might have left his body, but his need yet lingered, turning his lower belly into a furnace that burned no less fiercely for being entirely metaphorical. He groaned faintly and bid Aurthour release him; his first action after that was to finish removing his shoes, shorts, and stockings. His shyness returned, slightly, once he was entirely naked; he tried to keep his body twisted away and out of sight, but Aurthour was having none of that. He grabbed Equius around the waist and kissed him again, hands sweeping up and down the length of his body and caressing his back, his chest, his thighs, his…Oh dear…Though Aurthour could not speak, the pride and affection in his touch was impossible to miss. His need as well; when Equius glanced down at both their splayed legs, he blushed darkly, realizing that he could just see the, the evidence of his lusus's desire peaking out past the curve of his udder.

If there had ever been a time for such base curiosity, it was this. Equius lay on his side, propping himself up with an elbow as he carefully examined the tumescent piece of flesh; Aurthour shuddered next to him, and then Equius felt his lusus's hands on him once more, first caressing, then massaging the thick muscles of his thighs. He groaned as Aurthour's deft fingertips coaxed his muscles into relaxing, a surprised but pleased grin crossing his face when Aurthour twitched and exhaled heavily. Repeating the action was – literally – as easy as breathing, especially when he realized that Aurthour's hands had at some point left his thighs and moved a few significant inches further up his body. He groaned again, resisting the urge to bury his face in his arms and deny his lusus even the hint of reciprocation he was able to provide.

Aurthour's fingertips suddenly swept the length of his chest, gathering up his genetic material, and then they – oh. Oh god. Oh, that was positively _filthy_ ; Equius whimpered, tremors wracking his body, and might well have called the whole thing off were it not for the deep and unshaken reservoirs of trust he held for his guardian. Once again he found himself struggling to remain still while Aurthour penetrated him, slick fingers gently but inexorably pushing deeper inside him. He'd only just become aware that such a thing was even _possible_ , thanks to Gamzee's insistence on over-sharing, but the highblood's disjointed description hadn't even come close to doing the experience justice. And if Aurthour was doing _this_ to him, did that mean…Did he plan to…

Equius moaned, pulling another full-body shudder out of Aurthour as his hot, moist breath ghosted over his lusus's tumescence. Inspiration struck; he opened his mouth, letting his tongue loll out – and finding such an animalistic action strangely arousing under these circumstances. He didn't dare attempt to touch such a sensitive part of Aurthour's body, lest he cause his lusus unspeakable pain, but when next he exhaled, Aurthour's reaction caused his flesh to drag across Equius's tongue. His response was an immediate as it was dramatic; he actually vocalized, a throaty sound not unlike a whinny escaping his normally silent mouth. Surprised, but not displeased, Equius kept his mouth open, allowing Aurthour to pleasure himself as he pleased while the lusus continued to…to prepare Equius for what he so strongly suspected what must be coming.

His expectations turned out to entirely correct; a few minutes more of preparation, and then Aurthour was gently sliding his fingers out of him and caressing his spine a final time, making him shiver, then scooping him up with a strong arm around his chest and pulling him close for another kiss. Equius felt warm through and shivery, so tense with anticipation that he could scarcely breathe, and yet at the same time loose-limbed and utterly pliable. He followed Aurthour's unspoken commands with perfect compliance, lying on his side with his back to his lusus, fingertips already beginning to dig into the floor as Aurthour stroked his side and tugged at his hips, fussing over him and arranging him just so, and then – oh. Oh goodness. He could, he could _feel_ it, the very tip of Aurthour's organ, pressing against him.

It was far, _far_ bigger than Aurthour's fingers had been, and as it pressed against him Equius was suddenly gripped by the cold fear that it could never possibly fit, that they would have to end the encounter here, with his lusus still unsatisfied and Equius himself still trembling with need. But of course Aurthour knew better; he always did. His fingers worked out Equius's lower back and, and buttocks, almost fierce in how firmly they massaged him, until at last the tension went out of him with a loud groan. Aurthour pressed against him at the same time, and Equius cried out silently, caught without any breath in his lungs, when he felt the head of it push inside him. It was so big that, despite all the care and preparation Aurthour had taken Equius still felt a sharp pain go up his spine. He hissed between his teeth, still struggling to draw breath, and Aurthour halted immediately, looking down at the portion of Equius's face that wasn't obscured by the floor or his hair and petting his side with palpable concern. But Equius found that he didn't want Aurthour to stop.

He dug his fingers into the floor as he fought the overwhelming urge to _move_ , to squirm, to press back; anything to relieve the burning, arching stretch. Through sheer force of will he took first one breath, then another, forcing the air past the tightness in his throat that so exquisitely mirrored the tightness in more intimate regions of his body. Finally he had the breath to give an order, a demand that Aurthour move, since Equius dared not do the moving for him. His lusus gripped his shoulder, stroked his face; despite the lust and pain clouding his senses Equius still noticed that Aurthour's fingers were trembling, and was gratified for it. Again he ordered Aurthour to move, giving in just a little to desperation; his lusus might have ignored the first order out of concern for him, but could not do so again. He grabbed Equius by the hips, slowly tugging him back down on that excessively impressive length, while Equius whimpered and keened and tore great gouges in the surface of the floor. How glad he was that there was nobody present, other than Aurthour of course, to see him in such a state! And how very grateful he was to his lusus simply for existing, for being his lusus and sharing this experience with him.

At last he could go no further; his backside was pressed up against the apex of Aurthour's hind legs, and Aurthour's udder was squashed nearly flat against the small of his back. Equius could feel the warm dampness of a few stray droplets, left behind by his earlier feeding and now squeezed out by the pressure, trickling down his skin, but the sensation was all but overwhelmed by the fullness that seemed to penetrate deeply into his very core. Of course it was painful; his body had never been meant to receive so much. But he found himself enjoying all the same. No, more than that: he found himself craving more.

One of Aurthour's hooves scraped against the ground as he struggled to gain purchase and follow Equius's breathless, only half-coherent commands; the position couldn't possibly have been anything other than extremely awkward for him, but the lusus persisted, brushing Equius's hair out of his face with a delicacy that belied the rough way his hips suddenly jerked, dragging smooth, heated fleshed against flesh. Equius cried out, and again as the motion was repeated, his lusus falling into a rhythm that hurt and pleasured in equal measures.

This time Equius did not require assistance to find his release; he spilt his genetic material on the floor without even a hand on him, keening desperately and, as best he could between sobs, begging Aurthour to continue. But this time the order was unnecessary; his lusus had grown relentless as his own pleasure neared its peak, and he held Equius tightly by the shoulders and neck, pounding into him with a force that left him shaken to the bone. Aurthour's release was no less dramatic; he withdrew at the last minute, spilling a white fluid only slightly thicker than his milk across Equius's legs and back.

Utterly undone, Equius could do nothing but roll onto his back – with a wince, his body was already making its opinion of the abuse he'd just subjected it to known – and stare sightlessly up at the ceiling, struggling for breath. Aurthour lay next to him, the lusus's sides heaving; after a moment he wrapped an arm around Equius and pulled him back against his chest, nuzzling the back of Equius's sweat-soaked neck. Equius sighed in gratitude, letting his fall closed as he allowed himself a moment to rest. But only a moment; his eyes opened again soon afterwards, and he looked down the length of his body, taking stock of himself and the mess he'd made. Blue and white genetic material was everywhere, and despite his weakened state he couldn't help but blush as he took it all in. He reached down to brush a fingertip through a rope of white that had painted his thigh; after a moment's contemplation and a shy glance over his shoulder to make sure Aurthour wasn't looking, he raised the white-coated fingertip to his mouth, tongue sneaking out to taste it. His lips quirked slightly at the bitterness, but despite that he found the taste very enjoyable indeed.


End file.
